


The Haunt

by FestivalGrey



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: (but only a little bit and consensually), (it's morty), Consensual, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Ectoplasm, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Group Sex, Human/Pokemon Sex, Interspecies, Interspecies Sex, Mind Control, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgy, Pokephilia, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, all the ghost type pokemon just fuck their trainers and everyone loves it, happy halloween ya filthy animals, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestivalGrey/pseuds/FestivalGrey
Summary: The Haunt--a yearly gathering of Ghost-type experts behind closed doors. On All Hallow's Eve they give themselves over to ghosts and spirits. It's a night of spectral debauchery unlike any other...Happy Halloween!
Relationships: Allister/Acerola, Ghost pokemon/their trainers
Kudos: 21





	The Haunt

**Author's Note:**

> Some spooky fun for my favorite holiday! Based on a suggestion from a follower. Hey, figure out more about how to suggest fics [at my Twitter account](https://twitter.com/FestivalGrey) if you feel like it! And thanks for your support!
> 
> (And btw... I love comments! Live for them!)

As the resident Ghost expert of Galar, Allister had always heard about the Haunt. Everyone had. A yearly gathering of the greatest Ghost-type trainers in the world locked in together in a special location (this year they’d snagged the Old Chateau in Sinnoh) on the spookiest night of the year: Halloween. He’d always wanted to go.

But until tonight, he’d never been able. There were only two criteria to be invited: you had to be an internationally-recognized trainer of the type.

You also had to be of age.

(No one knew what _type_ of party the Haunt was, but that second criteria inspired a lot of whispers.)

Allister had finally reached adulthood, and true to form, his invitation had come in the mail on October 1st. Both nervous and excited, he’d RSVP’d and arranged for travel to Sinnoh.

He’d never been to Eterna Forest before. It was the sort of place most people would probably be leery of—shaded, misty, with pokemon like Gastly and Murkrow lurking in the corners, their eyes gleaming. The average Joe would be wary of setting foot there, especially after dark, but to a Ghost user like Allister, it felt comforting—like coming home. The Old Chateau was even greater: a monument to decrepit glory, creaky in its gloom, its old Victorian charms faded into a sharp, pleasant impishness.

The person who met him on the steps was an old friend.

“Ally!” Acerola beamed. She raced off the steps and tackled him with a hug. “You made it!”

Acerola was a former Trial Captain and current Elite Four member of the Alola region. Trial Captains could only serve until nineteen, so she’d aged out, but she was still young and perky and perennially dressed like she’d stepped out of an old-timey orphanage. She’d been a friend and mentor to Allister.

“You nervous?” she asked, pulling back from the hug. Despite the mask he wore to hide his face, she had no trouble reading him. “Yeah,” she appraised, “you’re nervous. Hey, I was pretty nervous my first time last year too, but…” She smiled devilishly. “It was a _real_ treat.”

She led him inside, where the Haunt was ready to go underway. Allister recognized most of the others there: Johto’s Morty, Hoenn’s Phoebe, Unova’s Shauntal, and Sinnoh’s very own Fantina, who had secured the Chateau for their use tonight.

With him and Acerola, that made for every Ghost-type Gym Leader or Elite Four member in the world, except…

“Where’s Agatha?” he asked.

“She’s a bit too old for this,” Phoebe replied, clapping his shoulder with a laugh as she sauntered past. “She bowed out but sends her regards. But now that you’re here…”

She clapped once, briskly, and the small murmuring conversations died out. “Everyone! I’d like to welcome you to this year’s Haunt. Today is extra special because for the second year in a row, we get to welcome a newcomer to our midst—Allister!”

He was thankful for the mask covering his blush as a hearty round of applause filled the room, the other Ghost experts swimming him with praise: “Good to have you!” “More new blood, huh?” “ _Tres magnifique!”_

Perhaps recognizing his dislike for being the center of attention, Acerola gave his hand a relieving squeeze, smiling at him. He was grateful for it.

“Now, I know most of us are already familiar, but for the newcomer… it feels appropriate to talk about just what the Haunt is. As Leaders and Elites, we all know that closeness with pokemon is necessary to truly work with them as trainers. The Haunt is an opportunity for us to shed society’s taboos and obtain a more— _intimate_ look at our beloved ghosts.”

Allister’s jaw almost hit the floor. He’d expected some sexual activity tonight given the rumors surrounding the Haunt, but they were involving the pokemon, as well?

“If anyone isn’t comfortable with that,” Phoebe said, her eyes sweeping over the room as if she wasn’t exclusively saying this for Allister’s benefit, “then now’s the time to leave. I promise none of us will judge you.”

Allister’s mind was racing. Sex? With _pokemon?_ He’d… he’d be lying if he said he’d never at least considered it. Most trainers had. The graceful allure of a Gardevoir or the rugged appeal of a Machoke were famous, and a number of high-profile trainers, up to and including Champions, were suspected of such dalliances.

The idea shocked him… but didn’t repulse him. Acerola squeezed his hand, he squeezed back, and didn’t take a single step out.

Phoebe smiled at his resolution. “Well, then. Tonight is the night of spirits—I think it’s only fair they join us!”

With a flash, the others there released their pokemon, and the room filled with Ghost-types of all sorts: Gengar and Banette and Mimikyu and Sableye and a dozen others, all cackling and crackling with anticipation.

He released his team too: Polteageist, Cursola, his own Gengar. The ghosts ringed the edge of the Chateau’s parlor, all a-tremble with anticipation.

“Spirits of the pokemon world!” Phoebe called out, her voice high. A restless energy was settling on the room, one of anticipation. “Tonight is All Hallow’s Eve; it is the night where ghosts and spirits reign free! We know you better than any others in the world. Normally you follow our commands, but tonight…”

She reached down and effortlessly undid her sarong, letting it slip to the floor. She was naked underneath, her slit hairless and enticing. Her top went with similar ease, leaving her standing there in naught but her islander’s tan and the lovely flowers in her hair.

The others were following suit. Shauntal was peeling off her panties, her modest breasts already exposed. Morty looked sublime, tall and thin and pale, his neatly trimmed slit crowned by a sizable clit. Fantina was slipping out of her dress and opera gloves with an excitement that bordered on undignified; and Acerola let go of Allister’s hands to undress as well. Her fashion choices hid her figure, which was quite full, with lush round hips.

Swallowing, Allister followed suit, and before long the only thing he wore was his mask. His cock, already at attention, was visible to any who cared to see.

He was grateful for the mask hiding his deep-red cheeks and sweaty forehead.

“Tonight,” Phoebe repeated, her voice soft yet carried in the gloomy light, audible to every person and pokemon there, “you are not ours— _we_ are _yours._ To do with as you like.” She pitched her voice louder. “Let the Haunt commence!”

And the fun began.

One of the Gengar swooped low, grinning, and licked Phoebe along her side; the Hoennese woman shuddered, knees buckling from the light paralysis, and the Gengar straddled her, easing her to the floor. Where once there had been a smooth juncture between its legs, suddenly there was a massive purple cock, shimmering with the telltale glow of ectoplasm. It shoved inside of her, the malleable plasm letting its hugeness slip in easily. Phoebe’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in a wordless gasp of pleasure—one that her own Dusknoir was quick to take advantage of. The hulking pokemon stuck a finger into her mouth and she moaned and sucked on it.

She was far from the only one to receive their attention. Poltergeist energy filled the room, making curtains and tablecloths flutter of their own accord; objects began to dance under the dictates of spectral command. Shauntal, too, was lifted heavansward by an invisible will, small wisps of shadows showing themselves as makeshift shackles around her wrists, and made love to right there over everyone, a Banette cackling as it ate her out, a female Gengar echoing the sound as it rubbed its cunt, dripping with ectoplasm, against the Elite’s mouth. She moaned delightedly from their attentions, her loins already sopping.

Shauntal’s Chandelure had settled on Morty. The normally-violet glow of its flames were cycling through a myriad of different colors: green, red, yellow, each of them pale and ethereal. His eyes were wide and fixated; he slumped back, furiously rubbing his own clit and stroking his outer folds with practiced fingers. Funnily enough, just as Allister had kept his mask and Phoebe her flowers, Morty still wore his scarf draped over his bare shoulders. It seemed strangely lewder than if he had been completely naked. Behind him, Fantina had been pinned to the floor by Acerola’s Mimikyu, squirming with need as the fey pokemon teased her by rubbing a shadowy tendril along her labia. The appendage continually stroked her, swirling against her clit but refusing to go inside, and the Sinnohvian Leader was writhing desperately.

“Just put it in,” she begged, panting between words. “Please just—”

She didn’t get much farther. Allister’s own Polteageist spilled itself into her mouth, filling her with a mix of tea and ectoplasm, and her throat worked as she swallowed what it had to give her. With every swallow her pupils widened more and more; in Galar there were rumors that the tea had an aphrodisiac effect.

When the Polteageist pulled out of her, the Mimikyu apparently decided it had enough and plunged directly into her snatch. Fantina wept from it.

For his part, Allister was immediately surrounded by dancing lights that were impossible to ignore, small wisps of power that pressed in on his head. The whispers in his mind were pleasant and playful, and he instinctively knew that they would dial back the moment he got uncomfortable.

 _Touch yourself,_ they commanded, and he did, his cock stiffening in his hand as he moaned. Shadowy tendrils snaked from nowhere to caress him, spiraling around his thigh, gently cupping his sack, stroking his shoulders and guiding his hand as he pumped himself. The tendrils slowly plucked the mask from his face and set it gently aside, twining through his hair and playing with it. They felt… unreal, smooth and sticky, cool and hot, an interplay of seemingly dichotomous sensations all at once.

Just a few paces away, the same tendrils were caressing Acerola’s breasts, cupping and stroking them. Her nipples hardened from the attention and she moaned, sucking away at another one inside of her mouth.

More whispers alit into his mind. _You like her, don’t you._

“Yes…” he muttered. It wasn’t just the presence of the ghosts making him think so. Acerola had always been a good friend and had looked out for him, and he’d nurtured a bit of a crush for her.

At the confirmation, the spectral voice laughed. Suddenly the tendrils nudged him forward towards her. They withdrew from Acerola as well, retreating from her tits and sliding out of her mouth with a wet sound. She had a moment of surprise before Allister was on her.

He half crashed into her, she half caught him. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Ally…” she moaned. Behind her, Allister was vaguely aware that the Gengar was still ramming away at Phoebe, that more plasmic dicks had appeared into her hands with her furiously giving them fast, passionate handjobs.

The shadows caressed both Allister and Acerola closer together, their lips met, and then things got really crazy.

Normally Allister wasn’t one for passionate makeouts, but the influence of the pokemon had lowered his inhibitions. He immediately pressed his tongue against Acerola’s lips and she parted for him with a moan, shuddering as he stroked the roof of her mouth, pressed against the back of her teeth. She returned it, both of them quivering as their tongues pressed against each other. Her mouth tasted of ectoplasm—sharp and electric and addictive, inviting him to press on.

He gripped her tight with one hand, pulling her even closer; the shadows squeezed about them, stroking their shoulders and the smalls of their back and leaving them aloft with sensation. With his other hand, he reached down to cup her breast. The Alolan Elite moaned as he weighed it, shuddered as he flicked his thumb across her nipple.

Gradually he traced his hand lower down her body, delighting in how she leaned against him as he stroked her side, the way she whimpered when he traced her thigh.

He found her clit and tentatively pressed it and she half-collapsed against him, sobbing from orgasm. “Don’t stop,” she forced out between blissful wracks of her body. “Don’t stop, Ally, don’t stop!”

 _Don’t stop,_ affirmed the whispers. _Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop._

From the corner of his eyes he could see that Shauntal was still suspended airborne, completely at the whim of the ghosts, a mischievous-looking Runerigus filling every hole she had with black tentacles. She burbled happily around the one in her mouth and when the Runerigus slipped a _second_ one inside her pussy, that proved too much for the Unovan. Her eyes rolled back as she surrendered entirely to the pokemon, which grinned and crooned. Its tentacles convulsed and suddenly glowing purple plasm was jetting into Shauntal, seeping out of her mouth and ass and cunt to drip against the floor. Household objects—lamps and books and candlesticks—danced a euphoric circle around her.

Much like Allister and Acerola were, Morty and Fantina had been pushed together by the ghosts. Morty was still half-sprawled with his back to the wall, eyes half-lidded as the Mimikyu that had been fucking Fantina was now fixated on him, the creature’s appendage shoved into his mouth. Ecruteak’s Leader’s throat bulged from the sheer breadth of the thing in him. Fantina was between his legs, mouth buried in Morty’s slit, lapping away and making Morty shudder with every pass of her tongue. A Sableye was gripping her ass, railing away furiously at her snatch; the glowing cum leaking from her showed that it was far from the first ghost to enjoy her that evening.

Inspired by the debauchery around him, Allister pressed his finger into Acerola and held there and the former Trial Captain sobbed against him, their kiss broken.

“Fuck, Ally,” she said, her voice strained to the point where a single word could take seconds to mumble out, “I need it…”

Allister opened his mouth to speak to her, but a pair of tiny hands gripped the back of his head. He was forced to lean backwards to see a Banette grinning down at him, the creature’s ectoplasmic cock on display—

And then the Banette was fucking his face. Allister moaned around it. The pokemon’s size wasn’t huge, but it still went deep enough to press against the back of his throat, making him shake with every press. He inadvertently started fingering Acerola with the same pace that the Banette was using to fuck him, both of them quivering in unison.

Time seemed to get away from him as the Banette pounded his throat, and he barely parsed that he and Acerola were shifting positions until she was right under him, his cock lined up with her. Had the tendrils maneuvered them this way, or had they simply naturally progressed things this far? Either way, Acerola’s blushing, smitten gaze told him she didn’t mind. She wanted only one thing.

“Ally… _please…”_ Allister could only murmur something in response—the Banette was still occupying him. And then suddenly, the doll-like pokemon cackled, the cock in his mouth stiffened—

And ectoplasm-laced cum washed into him.

Despite his surprise, Allister gulped down as much he could, feeling its viscousness race down his throat to settle pleasingly in his stomach. It tasted like electric sex, feeding his whirling mind even more. The Banette held onto him for a few moments, still cackling and spurting a few last times before slipping out. Allister gasped at the emptiness, ghost cum dripping out of his mouth to splatter on Acerola.

But she didn’t seem to mind. She still stared at him pleadingly. “I want it,” she whispered, and the cacophony of spirits around them echoed: _want it, want it._

So he gave it to her.

It was his first time with anyone, and so he was unpracticed, but neither of them cared much. Acerola cried out, her voice songful, and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his back like a vise. “Keep it up, Ally,” she breathed into his ear. “Keep it up.”

What he lacked in experience he made up for in passion. He furiously slammed into her again and again, delighting in the pressure of her squeezing on him, glorying in her tightness, proud of the way he made her gasp with delight. Sometimes she clenched around him and shuddered and blushed harder.

He kept it up for minutes, fucking her almost constantly, both of them focused only on each other, the spectral depravity surrounding them reduced to background noise. They locked eyes with each other and amidst her panting bliss, Acerola reached up to cup his chin.

It wasn’t long after that. Feeling his orgasm building pressure down at the base of his cock, Allister grunted, slammed into Acerola as hard as he could, and came right into her.

Acerola’s breath hissed out of her as a ragged sigh. “Oh spirits,” she murmured, “that’s really you, Ally… that’s _you_ inside of me…” The hand reaching up to cup his chin switched to stroking his hair, curling it around her finger.

Suddenly weary, he leaned down to curl against her. “…yeah,” he replied, not able to say much more.

He was somewhat cogent of the Haunt winding down around them, of the shadowy tendrils caressing both of them, hugging tight like a cocoon; but he had little energy for anything else.

As he prepared to slip into much-needed slumber, though, Allister couldn’t help but think: it had truly been a night to remember.


End file.
